“You stole one hundred and seventy-nine dollars from Mr. Macloud and one hundred and eight from me,” said Croyden. “You may now have the privilege of returning it, and the letter. If you make no more trouble, lie quiet and take your medicine, you’ll receive no further harm. If you’re stubborn, we’ll either kill you and dump your bodies in the Bay, or give you up to the police. The latter would be less trouble, for, without the letter, 166 you can tell your story to the Department, or whomever else you please—it’s your word against ours—and you are thieves!”
“How long are you going to hold us prisoners?” asked Bald-head—“till you find the treasure? Oh, Lord!”
“As long as it suits our convenience.”
“And luck is with you,” Hook-nose sneered.
“At present, it is with us—very much with us, my friend,” said Croyden. “You will excuse us, now, we have pressing business, elsewhere.”
When they were out of hearing, Macloud said:
“Doesn’t our recovery of Parmenter’s letter change things very materially?”
“It seems to me it does,” Croyden answered. “Indeed, I think we need fear the rogues no longer—we can simply have them arrested for the theft of our wallets, or even release them entirely.”
“Arrest is preferable,” said Macloud. “It will obviate all danger of our being shot at long range, by the beggars. Let us put them where they’re safe, for the time.”
“But the arrest must not be made here!” interposed Croyden. “We can’t send for the police: if they find them here it would give color to their story of a treasure on Greenberry Point.”